


come to your shore (to lay down my sword)

by saisei



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Nonnie Inspired, Post-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 05:51:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9221888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saisei/pseuds/saisei
Summary: Yuri's on the first plane out of the country when he hears the news. The trip feels like déjà vu, but he's not the same brat he was two years ago, and Viktor's not the key to his success, and Yuuri Katsuki's not the rival he wants to force out of competition any more. Yuuri's not anything any more, at least according to the latest reports from Japan.





	

**Author's Note:**

> But I will not fight any more  
> I have come to your shore  
> to lay down my sword  
> we are fallen romantics  
> in the city of blue  
> we miss the  
> end of the night  
> we have salt on our shoes  
> (Ocean by Antje Duvekot, transcription and therefore errors mine)

Yuri's on the first plane out of the country when he hears the news. The trip feels like déjà vu, but he's not the same brat he was two years ago, and Viktor's not the key to his success, and Yuuri Katsuki's not the rival he wants to force out of competition any more.

Yuuri's not anything any more, at least according to the latest reports from Japan, and that's why Yuri dropped everything and ran. Viktor will need a friend, or whatever Yuri is to him. Someone he can scream at in his mother tongue, at the least.

Yuri can't sneak into Japan in obscurity like he did the first time. Today, reporters try to waylay him and ask him to say something about the tragedy.

He says _no comment_ , but he wonders if it's just a monstrous fact of life in a seaside fishing town that sometimes a boat goes out and doesn't return. He's sure Yuuri's cousin must have had a radio and GPS – his family seems well-to-do – but the ocean is vast, terrifying, mercurial. Yuri doesn't like it. He hates feeling small and powerless.

He takes a cab from the train station to Ice Castles first, and finds a black-bordered sign on the door and Viktor the only person in the building. He's drunk, and skating, and the speakers are playing Yuuri's song on repeat, and Yuri will never forgive Viktor if he kills himself over this.

"Come here, you idiot," he shouts, tossing his duffel bag down and planting his hands on his hips. He hasn't gained any height in the past year, but he plans to make up for it with ego and dramatics. No one will ever overlook him.

Viktor sees him, but insists on finishing the program – sloppily: tripping and fucking up the jumps – before gliding over. He bows to Yuri like he's paying respect to his fans, but his eyes are red and red-rimmed. He looks terrible. Yuri takes two steps and pulls him in, off the ice, and hugs him, hard and angry.

"Don't make me cry again," Viktor says. His voice is raw; Yuri wonders if he's been yelling, here, alone in this big empty rink. "Oh god, Yura, my Yuuri. What am I going to do?"

"Go home, drink coffee, take a shower, get through the night, get through tomorrow."

Viktor pulls away, shaking his head. "I can't face our apartment. I – "

"I'll get a hotel room," Yuri interrupts. "I have a credit card."

He must sound too defensive, because Viktor looks at him sharply, pressing his lips together so hard they go white. Then he takes a deep deliberate breath and looks away. "You're half my age and taking care of me."

"You're not that ancient," Yuri snaps, and pushes him to the bench to change so they can leave. "And you need someone to take care of you, so shut up and let me."

He thinks Yuuri would want him to be here; for all that Yuri hates that Yuuri took Viktor away, he'd never have wished for Viktor to be hurt like this. The fucking ocean, what good is it, anyway, swallowing down people and their futures. Yuuri's never going to get old, now; he's never going to find out if Viktor remembered making that promise to marry him.

Fucking, fucking _hell_.

It takes weeks of hard work (that Yuri hates) and patience (that he doesn't have), but he finally gets Viktor away from the edge of darkness. Yuri wakes up one morning and realizes he isn't afraid something terrible happened while he slept. Viktor doesn't apologize – and Yuri won't force him; he's not an idiot; he knows mourning is a terrible, all-consuming thing – but he agrees to return and work with Yakov to help coach Yuri for the Grand Prix. He doesn't discuss returning to the ice himself, and Yuri doesn't push.

The rented apartment is emptied out, belongings packed up or sold off. The farewells with Yuuri's family are ghastly. Viktor has turned all the Katsukis into huggers, and when their English and his Japanese fail he tends to get ensnared, as if a smothering gesture can overcome how fucked up everything is. He can't make anything right, when even his name hurts them, and being squeezed drives him up the wall. But he promises them he'll take care of Viktor, the way Yuuri would have wanted, and he hopes they understand.

Yuri is dizzy with relief when they get through customs and Yakov wraps Viktor up in his arms like he knows what he's doing. Yuri isn't a kid, and he was fine with being responsible for Viktor – after all, going to Japan was his own idea – but when he finally falls into bed that night, he finds himself sobbing into the pillow without even knowing why. Stupid Yuuri and his stupid cousin – supermarkets sold fish, _the internet_ sold fish, why couldn't they have just gone shopping and then Yuri wouldn't feel this way.

He thinks _stupid Yuuri_ at least once every time he's on the ice, especially when his jumps aren't perfect. It's pathetic – he's never going to have a successful rivalry with a ghost, and there are dozens of other skaters he could choose to crush under his blades. And he suspects Viktor knows; perhaps Yuri has a tell, a certain way of scowling or baring his teeth when the Yuuri in his head soars higher or spins faster. But they don't talk about Yuuri. Sometimes Yuri wants to shake Viktor so hard his teeth rattle loose.

He has to fight at the Grand Prix Final, but he never doubts even once that he'll win. He is Yuri Plisetsky. He _will_ win. And he does. He wears sky blue and white and skates to Yuuri's signature music. His concentration is so intense that time seems to slow, and the sound of the crowd recedes. He lands every jump perfectly, even that fucking quadruple flip. He doesn't know if he believes in heaven, some place where his grandmother and Katsuki Yuuri are waiting for him, but if it exists, the border is just barely beyond his outstretched fingertips. When the music stops, the roar of the audience hits him like a tidal wave, together with nearly paralyzing exhaustion, and it's all he can do to make it off the ice.

Everyone is crying, and one of the announcers calls his program _a beautiful tribute_. Yuri is tempted, when microphones are shoved in his face, to say that it was actually a fuck-you gesture, but instead he finds himself muttering, "I missed him. He should have been here."

Viktor congratulates him sincerely, with a hug that Yuri doesn't shake off for at least three seconds. He wonders if Viktor took some kind of medication, to be able to watch the competition just like always, with his back straight and that calm, intent look on his face as he studied the performances.

Later, Viktor asks Yuri if he'd like to take a trip to Hasetsu. Yuri has better things to do, but he says sure. Why not? Some of the other skaters said they'd visit, too, Viktor tells him. Phichit, Chris, maybe J.J. The Katsukis' onsen has become famous.

Viktor takes him on a rambling walk when they both wake too early from jet lag. Yuri's wearing his newest gold medal under his jacket, and Viktor notices, of course, tweaking the ribbon with a knowing look.

Yuri doesn't snap at him for this only because the road they'd come down turns and suddenly they're at the far end of the town's main seaside park, the wide ocean before them grayish-green under the clouds. Viktor climbs down the steps to the paved walkway along the top of the dunes, and Yuri hurries after him. Viktor's got a shopping bag over one arm, and suddenly Yuri's afraid that this isn't just a stroll to try and force their circadian rhythms into sync with Japan time.

From the harbor, commercial fishing boats are heading out to sea, wreathed with diving gulls, the water white in their wakes. Yuri tries not to look at them.

"When the coast guard stopped searching, I went a bit crazy," Viktor says, half-turning back so the breeze carries his words clearly. Yuri knows that's an understatement, and is irritated that Viktor might be trying to protect him. "I remember walking into the water like I could fight it, and being dragged out, and then I pulled off my ring and I was going to throw it in. I think I was angry with it, for being all I was left with, you know? The Nishigoris stopped me from doing that, too. They were... very kind, even though their hearts were broken, too." He shrugs. "Please don't try to toss your medal in. I bought these shoes in Milan, and the salt water would ruin them."

"As if. I hate the ocean," Yuri tells him. He pulls his medal off and shakes it over his head, shouting at the incoming waves: "You should have been there! I wanted to beat you again, you idiot _katsudon_!"

Of course, if Yuuri hadn't been such a loser, he never would have gotten drunk and taken his clothes off and cast his stupid seductive spell over Viktor in the first place. Yuri can feel his lip curling with scorn and he drops the medal back over his head, hanging right where anyone can see it.

Viktor gives him a moment to fume silently, and then continues walking on.

They end up at Ice Castles just as Takeshi's waving off some kids who'd come for morning practice, and Yuri realizes there was nothing aimless about their walk after all. Viktor had timed it precisely so they'd arrive at this moment, when the rink and the Nishigoris were unoccupied.

Inside, Viktor hands Yuuko the bag he'd been carrying, saying something in Japanese that Yuri barely understands. Obviously, it's a present – maybe an expression of thanks? Something Viktor brought for her from home. Her eyes tear up and she gives Viktor a hug. Yuri barely manages not to sigh in loud impatience. (At times like these, he feels the spectral presence of Lilia, demanding good manners.)

Yuuko opens the bag, takes out a flat package, and unwraps it; Takeshi puts his arm around her and they both study what has to be a framed picture. Takeshi jerks his head to invite Yuri over to look, and he suddenly has a horrible suspicion.

The photo in Yuuko's hands is just as embarrassing as he thought. He remembers Phichit taking it; even though he must have been crushed about not winning, he'd been cheerful as he ran around to get pictures of all his friends. Viktor stands in the center, smiling as if he wanted to give himself permanent wrinkles to go with the receding hairline. Yuri is on his right with his head thrown back, and grinning like an idiot himself because Phichit had said _please, Yuri_ with a pleading-puppy look that Yuri couldn't disappoint. Yuuri is standing straight on Viktor's other side, hair raked back, his face doing that irritating Mona Lisa thing; all his happiness in his eyes. His hand, with the gold ring glinting, is on Viktor's shoulder.

"Thank you," Yuuko says softly, and Viktor counters quickly with _No, thank you_.

Before the whole moment can become a soppy farce, Takeshi digs a toolbox out from under the front counter and drafts Yuri to help him hang the picture on the wall. Yuri tries to weasel out, but Takeshi won't take no for an answer, so Yuri ends up wielding a tape measure ( _always measure twice_ , Takeshi tells him, like Yuri's an idiot) and trying to figure out how a level works.

Holding a nail to the penciled mark on the wall, he nearly misses the reason Takeshi's distracting him. Yuuko pulls up the chain around her neck, where a gold ring hangs.

"If I give this back to you, will you do something stupid again?" she asks, like she's dressing down one of her kids.

"No." Viktor makes a quick gesture. "Cross my heart."

She snorts, but undoes the chain and hands the ring over. "He meant what's engraved inside, you know. He wanted to stay by your side. For the rest of your lives."

"I know." Viktor slides his ring on.

Yuri lets out a careful breath and looks back at Takeshi, who's paused with the hammer half-raised. Takeshi looks really fucking sad, but he raises his eyebrows at Yuri, like _what can you do?_ , and tells him if he doesn't move his thumb it's going to get whacked.

Once the picture is hung, right where Yuuko will be able to see it from the front desk, Takeshi announces that he's taking them all out for coffee, or – with a teasing look at Yuri – cocoa "for the kid".

"First lessons aren't until ten," he says when Yuuko starts to protest. "We can lock up for an hour to spend time with friends."

"Fine, whatever." Yuuko grabs a pen and piece of paper. "You go on ahead, I'll make a sign for the door."

Yuri half-expects this to turn into a marital spat, but Takeshi just claps a hand to Viktor's back and propels him out the door, with a half-wave to his wife. Yuri hangs back, not sure if now it's Viktor and Takeshi's turn for a private moment. But Viktor manages to stall on the steps for a moment and calls, "Come on." He sounds like he's almost laughing; he sounds happy.

Yuuko underlines the words _Back @ 9:30!!!_ with a pink highlighter and looks up. "One sec."

"I'm not in a hurry," Yuri says. "Also, I am ordering the most expensive coffee on the menu." He fingers the ribbon around his neck, and then pulls his medal off. He hefts the weight of it in his palm. For all the pain that went into his fight to win the gold, it's not that heavy. He slides the ribbon around the picture frame on the wall, so the medal hangs underneath. "I'm leaving this here."

Yuuko stands next to him and reaches out to run a finger along the edge of the medal, giving him a companionable slap to his shoulder. "My girls will love that."

Yuri rolls his eyes. "Obviously, it's to make my smallest fans happy. Of course."

"Yup." Yuuko links arms with him and they head out, Yuri taping the sign up and Yuuko locking the door. The clouds are starting to break up; pale morning sunlight filters down to make the dark water sparkle like sequins. Yuri hopes Viktor packed his skates. He's got a new song in mind, and he wants to start working on the choreography for his program; right now, today, as soon as he can; here, on the same ice where he and Viktor and Yuuri skated together, about love of all unlikely things.

As they catch up to Victor and Takeshi, waiting on the corner for them, Yuri realizes his anger with Yuuri has vanished, carried off by the ocean, perhaps. He knows it's not like Yuuri died on purpose or wanted to fuck Viktor up and make Yuri sad. The place where the anger was feels warm and comfortable now, though, and Yuri thinks, _Watch me, Katsudon. Don't look away. I've learned from the masters a thing or two about surprising people._


End file.
